The Reign of Chaos
by BreakingBadLikeABoss
Summary: Post TDK. Kate Taggart has the perfect life, or so it would seem, however, her world is turned upside down when her fiance sells her to Gotham's mafia as payment for his debts. Now Kate is thrown into a nightmare, with no hope of escaping. Her only saving grace is her history with the Joker. No one takes what belongs to Joker, and lives to tell about it. Joker/OC. T for now.


**Author's Note: This fic is written as the prequel/spinoff to my Bane fic "The Sound of Madness." Since it is a prequel, you don't necessarily have to read my other story first, but I will be using some of the same characters/plot from Madness, so you might be more familiar with the characters and plot if you read it first, but it's not a requirement. ; )**

**With that being said, I don't own any of the Batman characters, and I'm not profiting off this in any way. I just like to write. All comments are welcome, so please let me know what you think!**

**Read, review, and enjoy!**

**The Reign of Chaos**

Chapter 1

The frigid night air bit at Kate as she walked across the parking lot, towards her car. She had put in yet another late night at the office. Working late had become a habit for her ever since she had been engaged, as had drinking. Kate's engagement was not something that she particularly cared to think about. The only love that existed in that arrangement was the love that Kate had for her family, and her father's legacy.

As she opened the door to her silver Porsche Cayman and tossed her Coach purse into the passenger seat, she shook her head sadly, remembering the old adage that money can't buy you happiness. How true that was for her. She had everything that she could possibly ever, and none of it mattered.

Kate gracefully swung herself into the Porsche, closing the door behind her, and started the ignition. She sat in the parking lot for a while, allowing the car to warm up, while taking deep breaths, just as her therapist had taught her to do. This was the most stressful part of her day. Kate spent nearly twelve hours every day running an international airlines corporation, almost single-handedly; but her job was a welcome reprieve from this.

Her fiancé, Miles, was far more stressful than her job. He was constantly drinking and gambling. Most nights, when she returned home from work, he would either be out gambling, or passed out on the couch, drunk. Sometimes, he would be awake, and those were the times that Kate feared the most. Miles could never keep his hands off of her.

Thus far, she had resisted sleeping with him, but she was running out of excuses. Their arguments after her refusals were becoming progressively more heated, and Kate was unsure as to how much longer this could go on until Miles simply took what he wanted by force. With the wedding only two weeks away, she knew that Miles' self-control would wear thin much sooner than she would like.

Natalie, her best friend from college, had been her only tie to sanity as of late. She was two years younger than Kate, and still in college, but they kept in touch regularly. She had even threatened to fly up from Texas and kick Miles' ass.

The thought of her small, but mean, 5' 4'' friend from college taking on her 6' 2'' fiancé was enough to make the somber Kate break out into a smile. She had loved Natalie from the moment they had met. The younger woman was fearless, with a wild and fiery spirit that Kate envied greatly.

Natalie had not grown up as Kate had. Her solution concerning Kate's upcoming wedding was that she should change her name, and run away. To forget about it all, and start over somewhere new. Natalie's family was not poor, but they did not own a multi-billion dollar airline industry either. The younger woman could not even begin to fathom the responsibilities involved, and the sacrifices that had to be made, in order to run a company that carried your name.

After a few more deep breaths, Kate finally shifted the car into drive, and made a course for her apartment. The drive home lasted fifteen minutes, but it seemed much shorter. She parked her Porsche underneath the awning reserved for her, and killed the engine. She took one last deep breath before exiting the vehicle.

The icy wind hit Kate like a sledgehammer; sending pin pricks of cold over her entire body. She pulled her jacket tightly around her upper body, trying to keep some of the cold at bay, as she made the trek to her apartment. Kate climbed two flights of stairs on the side of the complex, her heels clicking on the cement steps, until she reached her penthouse apartment on the third floor.

She fumbled with her purse until she found the keys that she was looking for, and inserted it into the lock, twisted quickly, and pushed open the door. Kate had expected to find Miles passed out on the couch, drunk like always, but could never have anticipated what awaited her inside.

Miles was running around the apartment, grabbing anything that could even remotely be used as a weapon. He was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and mismatched, as if he had been dressed by a five year old, and had slept in those clothes for several nights. His ebony hair stood out in all directions, and his green eyes shone with a wild madness, like an animal trapped in a cage. Miles' attention snapped to Kate as he heard the creak of the door opening.

The frenzied look in his eyes made Kate's heart stop with fear. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Before she had a chance to piece together what was happening, Miles approached her, and thrust a butcher knife into her hands. "They're coming," he breathed hurriedly. "Help me block the door."

Kate stood in stunned silence for a moment, taking in the scene that was playing out before her, when she suddenly began to panic. "W-What did you do?" she asked worriedly, her voice shaking with a fervor equal to that of her hands. The butcher knife glistened, and slipped to the floor, as the handle became slick with her cold, nervous sweat.

"Who's coming?" she forced, her voice dropping to a whisper. Miles regarded her for a moment, taking in her fear before he spoke, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. "Vince De Luca's men."

Kate instantly panicked at his words. The De Luca family practically ran Gotham. When the Falcones had fallen, Giovanni De Luca and his sons, Vince and Tony, had moved in. They had taken Gotham by storm, and now ran the majority of the underground gambling rings. There was a lot of money to be made, and they had connections everywhere. The De Luca's were dangerous, and not to be trifled with. Miles was in over his head, and Kate knew it.

She flung herself to the floor, desperately grasping for the butcher knife that she had dropped, just in time to miss the ballistic tip .9 mm bullet that lodged itself into the wall directly behind where her head had just been. Kate screamed, frozen on the ground, as the sound of semi-automatic handguns firing, wood splintering, and glass shattering filled her ears.

Bullets peppered the living room of the penthouse apartment, and one grazed her shoulder roughly. She cried out as the white-hot pain ripped through her upper body. Beside her, Miles went down with a shot to the leg, where he lay on the floor, writhing in pain. Suddenly, the shots stopped, just as quickly as they had started.

Kate could hear men speaking in hushed voices on the other side of the wall, before the door was unceremoniously kicked in. Two large men entered the apartment, armed with Glock handguns, and headed straight for Miles. One of the men, who appeared to be in charge, grabbed him roughly by the front of his collar, and jerked him to his feet.

"Where's the boss' money?" he growled. Miles shrank back from his grip, fear playing across his face, and blurted out the truth. "I don't have it," he rushed. "I can get it for you, just give me some time!"

The hired gun snickered at his pleas. "You've had plenty of time, Miles," he retorted coldly. "It's time to pay up now. We talked to your rich daddy, and he's not gonna pay your debt, so you better pull that money out of your ass right now, or I'm gonna put a bullet in your head." He pressed the barrel of the Glock against Miles' temple to reinforce his threat. The hired gun saw his prey's absolute terror, and it only made him want to kill the man even more.

The gears in Miles' head began to turn, and he made a quick decision to try and save his skin. "Take her," he pleaded, gesturing towards Kate. The hired gun frowned, glancing at the young woman on the ground, several feet away.

She was both beautiful and classy, there was no doubt. Her dress was professional, suggesting that she was someone of importance at her place of employment. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, and her bright blue eyes were wide with fear. Her shoulder was bleeding from the spot where the bullet had grazed her, and for a moment, the hired gun felt regret that this beautiful woman had been injured by his hand. That regret however, faded almost instantly, and he was all business once again.

"Why would I want her?" he growled at the struggling man in his grip. "She's of no use to me." Miles could feel his hope slipping away with each passing second. "You don't know who she is!" he blurted out, his panic rising. "That's Kate Taggart!"

The hired gun loosened his grip on Miles slightly, and turned his attention back to the young woman on the floor. "Taggart?" he asked, his interest growing. "Like Taggart Airlines? You really think that her father will pay your debts?" He snickered in amusement, turning his attention back to the man before him.

"He will pay for her," Miles said confidently. The hired gun released his hold on Miles' shirt collar, and shoved him away roughly. "You better hope you're right," he growled. "Because if you're not, I'll come back here. If I have to come back, I'll cut out your tongue for lying to me, and then I'll kill you."

Miles nodded nervously, and backed away, while the hired gun motioned to his partner. The other man nodded in understanding, and made his way towards Kate. She could barely breathe as he approached her. The butcher knife was clutched firmly in her hand, and hidden behind her back. When the man was within reach, she struck, stabbing the knife deep into his left leg.

The man roared in pain, and Kate felt pleasure as the warm, sticky blood from his wound washed over her hands. Her pleasure was short lived however, as the man's fist made contact with her face. The pain was unbearably intense, almost as though she had been hit by a truck. Kate desperately tried to open her eyes, but the darkness closed in, and consciousness slipped away from her.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on FRIDAAAYYYY! Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, WEEKEENNDD!"

Dr. Harleen Quinzel cringed as the horrible tune of Rebecca Black's _Friday_ filled the asylum. She was well aware that today was Friday. She had known that it was Friday from the moment that she had pried herself out of bed this morning, so was it really necessary to sing about it? Then again, no one knew why the Joker behaved as he did, so she was fighting a losing battle by trying to get inside his head.

Harley had known that he was a hopeless case for months now, but she continued to treat him because she found him fascinating, and incredibly tempting. She had worked with Joker for over a year now, and what had began as an effort to try and "cure" him, was now an effort to understand what made him tick. Harley was absolutely mesmerized by how fascinating he was, and more than just a little bit taken with him as well. Although she would never admit the latter to anyone, she knew deep down that he was more than just a patient to her.

She was deep in thought when she heard a knock at the door. "Come in!" Harley called out. A young man walked into her office. He was tall, with dark brown hair, and green eyes. His most distinguishing trait however, was the scar that ran across his neck, as though someone had tried to slit his throat, and failed. He carried a brown paper bag with him, and gave her a forced smile as he entered her office.

"I'm Mr. Campbell," he stated, getting straight to the point. "I called earlier. I'm here to see the Joker." Harley nodded quickly, remembering his call very well. Joker did not get many visitors, and she had been surprised when Mr. Campbell had called, requesting to see him. She led him out the door, and down the hall, toward the room that he would meet the Joker in. She had already set up one of the visitation room, and made sure that there would be no surprise escapes from Joker today.

Eli "Hawk" Campbell followed the psychiatrist at a distance, watching her every move. He was a man of few words, and his years in the U.S. military as a special ops sniper, had caused him to distrust strangers. Harley showed him to the holding room, where Joker was already waiting, with a huge grin on his face.

Hawk entered the room, and shut the door firmly behind him. He heard the click of the lock, and watched Harley leave them. Once he was certain that no one was listening, he turned to his boss. "That girl you asked me to keep an eye on," he began immediately, dispensing with the pleasantries. "The De Luca's have taken her."

Joker's grin dropped instantly, and he could feel the anger rising up within him. "They've ah taken her?" he asked dangerously, his tongue running over his bottom lip. Hawk nodded, and waited for his boss' response. A move such as this would not go without consequences.

Joker thought for a moment, and Hawk knew that he had a plan when his grin returned. "How about we ah pay them a visit," he said, his anger boiling over. Hawk returned his grin wholeheartedly, and tossed his boss the brown paper bag. Joker opened it, pulling out several cans of grease paint. "I thought you might say that," Hawk remarked. "Where do we start?"

**So that's chapter one! Please feel free to leave any thoughts or comments you have for me! Thanks for reading, and I hope you all have a wonderful week!**


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